


His Name is James

by Rasiaa



Series: FRIENDS Comp Collection [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: He always told someone what he wanted to do when he got older, and every time he had a new idea, he got laughed at. He was tired of it./ Or, proving everyone wrong.





	His Name is James

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eggsie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Eggsie).



> By the request of Eggsie, here is the companion piece to "Her Name is Dominique", much more in depth and with some after-grad moments that weren't in the other story.

When he was nine, he told his parents he wanted to be an astronaut like the guy on the television in Uncle Dudley's house, and Harry grinned at him and ruffled his hair and simply said, "We'll see."

He kept that dream for roughly six months before he was allowed for the first time into the main part of Uncle George's shop.

The pink bubbles and flying toys were enough of a delight, but then he discovered the sparklers and it sort of all went downhill from there. He grabbed one and then someone snatched it from his fingers and he swung around. "Hey!"

Uncle Percy stood there with a raised eyebrow and thin lips. "You shouldn't play with something so dangerous, James," he said sternly, putting the collection of fire-inducing toys on a higher shelf, much to the annoyance of the teenagers nearby.

"Hand us those?" one asked, and as Percy was ushering James away- James, who was still sort of miffed at Percy not only for calling him James instead of Jimmy like his parents, but also about the sparkler which he was sure he was old enough to handle. He was ten, now.

Percy rolled his eyes and grabbed the box before shoving it at the teenager and taking James by the arm. He dragged him back to Ginny, who looked alarmed at the adamant look on Percy's face and the sulky one on James'. "What happened?" she asked, tugging James into her side and staring at Percy.

"Your kid was about to burn the place down," Percy sniffed.

"I was not!" James insisted, and Ginny waved Percy away and knelt in front of James. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and he wrapped his arms around her. "I never want to grow up like Uncle Percy," he told his mom, still sulking.

Ginny laughed. "I would hope not. You're much more enjoyable to be around," she told him, smiling like it was a secret. James grinned.

…

Of course he knew he and his family were somewhat famous. It was hard to miss when his mother left for tours with the Holyhead Harpies and his father could hardly leave the house without being mowed down by some fan or grateful stranger.

It wasn't until he got to Hogwarts that he realized just how famous he and his family really were.

He stared with wide eyes at the ceiling- Aunt Hermione's stories could hardly compare to the real thing, he decided- and then exchanged a wide eyed look with Louis and Dominique, his cousins. Fred nudged him with an elbow and James looked over to the Gryffindor table and waved back at Victoire and Teddy. They gave him a thumbs up and then he ran into the girl in front of him- someone he'd never met before, and she hissed, "Watch yourself, Potter," with a nasty look on her face.

Did everyone know who he was? He never thought that he garnered that much attention.

He was wrong.

Sitting with Louis and Fred at the Gryffindor table was a bit surreal- even his grandmother couldn't cook this much food. He grinned at Teddy, across from him, and then stole the older boy's chicken from under his fingers. "Hey!" Teddy laughed, eyes lighting up with a familiar challenge. But then he calmed.

"Never mind, James. Don't land yourself with a bad reputation on your first night here," Teddy said quietly, eyeing the people around them wearily.

"What do you mean?" James asked, then said, "And it's Jimmy, Ted."

Teddy pulled a face at the name and pulled a newspaper out of his robes, showing it to James, who took it in curiosity. _First Potter Child to Join Hogwarts_ was on the front cover, and James shoved it away, a look of disgust on his face. "Don't they have anything better to report?" he asked grumpily, stabbing at the chicken on his plate.

"Nope," Teddy said.

"Maybe I should be a reporter," James said, "So that I can actually report something worthwhile for once," he finished. Teddy laughed, but James didn't think it was all that funny.

…

The third Saturday of November in his third year found him racing down the hall to his dorm room, the somehow-still-alive Mr. Filch not that far behind him. Louis gasped, "Run faster, boys," to James and Fred, who agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment.

"Mugwort!" James yelled at the Fat Lady, who looked miffed but opened the door anyway, revealing the Gryffindor common room, into which the three stumbled in.

"Damn," Fred panted, "That was close."

They could hear Filch outside, swearing up a storm, and his angry, skinny little cat- a damn menace- yowling in agreement. James nodded. "Too close," he muttered. "Maybe I should replace the old sod when I graduate just to help kids with pranks instead of giving kids heart attacks."

Fred snickered. "Good idea," he laughed, waving absently. "I'll see you boys tomorrow."

James laughed, too, though privately, he was tired of laughing.

"Did you see their faces, though?" Louis asked, grinning wildly. "It was awesome. We need more of Uncle George's stuff. Do you think Fred can get more for us or do we have to bribe one of our other cousins? He might've exhausted his quota…"

…

Dominique, come sixth year, turned out to be one of the only people who really understood him.

She was the last person he expected to slam her book bag on the table he was sitting at in the library, but slam her bag down she did, and her face followed soon after. "I want to die," she groaned, and James stared at her unsympathetically, his advanced history book open in front of him.

"We all do," he said. "Now what do you actually want?"

She huffed at him, lifting her head. "Your herbology notes," she requested, holding out her hand. The green of her robes ruffled with her movement.

James sighed. "Come on, Jimmy, please?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Knock that off," he said, reaching into his bag, "It looks weird."

He handed her the notebook and she opened hers and started flipping through pages, and for two hours they did their homework in companionable silence. 

At eight o'clock, James yawned and dropped his quill, ignoring the ink blot that formed almost immediately. Dominique was still scribbling away, but after about ten minutes of his staring at her, she looked up. "What?" she demanded.

"Why did we stop talking?" is the question that came out of his mouth. He's just as surprised as she was, and she stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't know, Jimmy."

…

"I want a library, wherever I wind up living."

"I just want sketchbooks and charcoal."

"My favorite animal is actually a bee."

"What? You nut job, that's a bug, not an animal."

"You're the crazy one, every living thing that isn't a plant must therefore be an animal."

"Whatever. I like rabbits."

"Rabbits suck. They bite, and their nails are really hard to take care of."

"I didn't say I wanted one."

"Ah, never mind. What else? I like muggle candy canes."

"What are those? My favorite candy is a good old fashioned chocolate frog. And before you ask, yes, I collect the cards."

"Typical. Candy canes taste like peppermint. They're red and white, usually."

"Nice. I love watching muggle documentaries."

"Really? Introduce me to some; that sounds vaguely interesting."

"Vaguely. Honestly, you uncultured swine."

"Says the one who doesn't listen to Cat Stevens or ABBA or the Beatles."

"Dude. They're from, like, the sixties. Why the hell would I listen to them?"

"Because they're timeless classics."

And so it went on. James and Dominique caught up with each other sitting in windowsills looking over the grounds, and the white expanse of rolling hills and leafless trees made for an enchanting backdrop.

…

And gradually, James drifted from his Gryffindor friends- whom he still loved and always would- and joined himself with this wayward Slytherin girl who was like a mother hen to his younger brother and his boyfriend, because once she realized the bullying was going on, she straightened that out quickly and without mercy where James had failed, and he respected her for that.

He liked her because she actually knew that he was ashamed- of himself, mostly, but also secretly of Albus and of Lily. He didn't connect with his siblings anymore than they connected with each other, and he pondered that fact often- how had the once-inseparable Potter siblings drifted apart to the point where summers had become awkward and silent? He hated that he allowed it, and he hated Teddy for letting it happen, too, and Albus for almost breaking the world, and Lily for just being too much like her namesake- Luna- and had her head so far in the clouds that she couldn't see the issues in front of her.

He felt like he failed as both a younger and older brother, and Dominique was the only one who knew it and told him that it was as much their fault as his. "Sure," she said flippantly, "You might've let them go, but they chose their own paths, and you three are all in different houses and Teddy is a special case- adopted, and as much my brother-in-law as your sibling, so he's not your fault at all. You three are just too different. And I have to say I'm somewhat surprised, but I guess everyone is different and some siblings just don’t click. But that's not your problem. They can take care of themselves."

It relieved him more than he could say. So he let his siblings go.

…  
James poked her again, feeling a little desperate. Something is eating at her. 

"Come on, Dom. We're partners in this. Let's get to work," he pleaded, and she snapped her head up.

"Since when do you want to work?" she asked suspiciously, and James grimaced.

"Since Mum and Dad threatened to have me do every chore in the house until I move out," he said. "I have to get at least three Es on my exams this year or I'm screwed."

She snorted. "Serves you right," she muttered, returning to her drawing. James made a noise of irritation and grabbed her pencil. She let out a quiet screech at the dark line across the paper. "You ass," she seethed.

"Serves you right," he repeated back at her. "Now come on. I want one of those Es in history."

"Why?" she scowled, closing her sketchbook and setting it aside. "It's so boring."

James gasped dramatically, clutching his shirt. "What is wrong with you?" he asked, leaning forward. "History makes the world make sense!"

"Then you do the project yourself," she said, "And get an O."

James paused, and she took the opportunity to stand. "I guess," he said quietly, looking at the books on the desk.

Dom moved to leave, throwing her bag over her shoulder. Then she stopped, and turned around. "Say, if you love history so much, why don't you become a historian?" she suggested. James snorted.

"I think my parents would die of shock. But, yeah, maybe. That's not a bad idea," he agreed, and she grinned at him.

"Don't say I never did anything for you."

James threw his quill at her, and she ducked out of the library, laughing.

It's not actually a bad idea. But he doesn't know how they'd react to him wanting pursue something like that.

"Are you nervous for graduation status checks next week?" someone asked, and James turned to listen.

"Not really," another girl replied. "I have my life figured out…"

That gave him an idea.  
…

It followed him for the next week. Then Professor Longbottom- Uncle Neville, really- called him into his office to check on graduation status. Dom went a few days earlier.

"Hello, James," Neville greeted, tugging his file out of a large cabinet and laying it on the desk. James slouched in the chair and stared at the foot of the table, tracing the woodwork with his eyes before Neville cleared his throat. "James?"

Only Dom called him Jimmy anymore.

"Yeah? Sorry. Spaced for a second," he said, sitting up and blinking rapidly. He didn't sleep much the night before, too busy trying to make sense of his essay.

Neville didn't ask. Instead, "What do you want to do when you get out of school? I assume you want to work with George, yes? Or did you still want to-" he looks at the file- "study astrology?" He sounded confused by what he just read and James sighed inwardly.

"No, Professor. I talked with Dom and she suggested that since history is my best subject I should do something with that."

Neville looked up. He grinned, a crease between his eyebrows, before looking back down at the file. James grit his teeth. "By Merlin, I guess it is your best subject," he muttered to himself, and James rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair, tired. "How do you stay awake with Binns teaching?" Neville asked, sounding awed, and James snorted.

"I don't. I read it afterward."

Neville muttered under his breath and then dismissed James, and then James heard, "Since when does James Potter read?" and James sort of wanted to strangle him.

Instead, he located Dom and dropped into the windowsill next to her and she just patted his shoulder in sympathy and said, "We all want to die, and to kill," like it was some kind of huge piece of philosophy. He laughed, kind of broken, and kind of in actual humor.

…

At graduation, when Harry asked, "What are you doing now?" James told him what he wanted.

"I want to write a letter to the Department of History in the Ministry and I want to study history."

Harry and Ginny exchanged shocked looks and he went off to find Dom before they could respond. He could read in their faces that they didn't think he would do well. It's not like there were many job opportunities in that field, after all, and it didn't matter that he was set to inherit the Potter fortune, they wanted him to make his own.

It was the same speech he'd been hearing for years.

…

"Hey," a gentle voice said, and he turned over in his bed to stare at his mother, who held up a silver tray with two teacups and a plate of biscuits. He turned back around and grabbed his remote to his television, shutting off the program on the muggle French Revolution to give his mom his full attention.

"Hey," he replied as she sat next to him on the bed. She handed him one of the teacups and a biscuit, and then she hummed a little, biting at her lip.

"I'm worried," she said, after a minute. He looked at her, confused. She caught his look and set her tea on the tray again. "I haven't seen you for more than an hour a day since you graduated last month," she said. "I'm sorry, if we did something-"

"Save it," he said, and she barely even winced, probably too used to such remarks from Albus. "I haven't gotten the letter of recommendation I asked Dad for three weeks ago, to apply for a job at the ministry, and I haven't seen Hermione so I can't exactly ask her, either, so what? I talk to Dom on the phone and we binge watch these shows together even though she's not here."

"Dom? Dominique, you mean?" she sounded shocked, and James snorted in derision.

"Uh, yeah?" he said, gesturing with the teacup. "My best friend for the past two- almost three- years?"

Ginny was surprised, he could see it in the reflection of her eyes. "Never mind," he said, a lump in his throat and feeling strangely bitter, and moved to grab the remote again.

His mother laid her hand on his arm. "Jimmy," she said, lightly, sounding upset. "I'm so sorry. There's just been a lot going on lately, what with Lily and her new music, and Teddy with his moving to Romania-"

"I know," he interrupted. "Everyone else is more important. I get it. Seriously. Just ask Dad to hurry up with that letter or I'll forge it myself."

"Jimmy-"

"Just go, please," he said, and turned on the television and cranked the volume.

Ginny left his tea and the plate of biscuits.

…

"I got it, Jimmy," Dom said next week, a day after his dad finally gave him a letter like he asked, and James waved away his apology with another "never mind."

He was getting tired of saying that.

"The contract?" he asked, tugging on his shoe. He had an interview in an hour.

"Yes! I'm heading to Paris in a month."

James paused, phone next to his ear and shoelaces in hand. He swallowed. Of course he remembered her declarations of leaving behind magic forever- so…

"Congratulations," he said, and there was silence for a minute.

"I won't leave you behind, Jimmy," she said, and she knew him so well. "I'll call daily until you're sick of me."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, but he was grateful and she knew that.

He hung up the phone a minute later, and then looked in the mirror.

Wearing brand new robes he bought after he graduated, he took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

His name was James Potter, and he was going to prove them all wrong.

He settled on what he wanted to be when he grew up, and now, that day is here, and he's never felt more at ease.


End file.
